#but she deserves more

[queer-reader-07]

pieces of my soul i can't reject

love letters, prayers, diary entries, maybe all of the above. for the little girl i used to be <3

I’ve been thinking about this post a lot lately. How it really, truly, and deeply conveys the way I conceptualize the younger version of myself. The version of myself that didn’t know we were genderqueer.

I think about her a lot, that little girl I used to be. She was strong and bright and brave. Her girlhood was so intrinsic to her. But she��s not me anymore. I laid her down in a grave I dug a while ago so she could rest. She didn’t get that— rest— when she was here, but she has it now. One day, I’ll rest with her. I’ll wrap my arms around her and hold her close like I was always meant to; even if it can only be in death and never in life.

It’s weird, sometimes, to think about who I used to be. I look at photos of that little girl I was and I don’t see myself. But I feel her within me, in the dreams I can’t dare to give up on because that would be a betrayal. I still have her memories. I was her but she isn’t me and isn’t that all a bit contradictory?

I could talk about my past self with they/them pronouns if I wanted to, other people do it all the damn time, but I won’t. I won’t do it because she was a girl to her core and I can’t bring myself to take that from her. She hurt so much when she was here, she faced things that no kid should have to face (the catholic church really will do a number on you). And I cannot imagine hurting her more by denying her existence.

I didn't grow into a woman But I grew up as a girl

Teenagehood provoked me and soon, womanhood choked me But sisterhood held me with care

~ Girl by Cammi McDermott

To me, there is something sweet and gentle and tender in acknowledging my past self’s existence while also recognizing that she is not me anymore. There is something gentle and tender in caring about my past self, in loving my past self.

I wonder, sometimes, if in a different life she wasn’t a part of me. Maybe in some other universe she’s a girl I get to hold close to me while we’re both alive. Maybe in another timeline I get to tuck her into bed and shroud her in the softness she deserved but didn’t always get. Because wouldn’t that be lovely?

I love her, that little girl I used to be. I’m not her anymore, but I hope that somewhere in the ether she can hear me telling her, “I love you, I’m proud of you, I remember you. I will always remember you.”

[beebfreeb]

[arcanefanpage]

The way Jinx honored Isha

[chloesimaginationthings]

The day FNAF Charlie Emily was shut out..

[fakevariety]

i feel so sorry for lynn. it sucks how much she’s been overlooked when it’s clear how fucking good she is. she must be so frustrated i hope she’s doing ok

[usertoxicyaoi]

Algeria's Imane Khelif wins Olympic Gold at the Women's Boxing in the Paris Olympics 2024.

[spiritual-turg]

more of anya being her happy and whimsical self bc twitter seemed to really like this one!!

[rozer0ry]

CW blood, violence

Rage .

[gongyussy]

the energy i'm bringing to linkedin | MY LADY JANE (2024)

[bobellafofella]

some recent vimes doodles! finished off my year with fifth elephant and a reread of night watch --- now onto thud!

[flwrkid14]

Tim Drake’s Unhinged Power Move (ft. Marriage, Ra’s al Ghul, and an Uncomfortable Batfamily)

No one really understood how it started. One moment, Tim Drake was Red Robin—tired, overworked, and fueled by caffeine. The next, he was dropping a bombshell in the middle of a routine debrief:

“Oh, by the way, I married Ra’s al Ghul.”

The room froze.

Dick’s dumbbell hit the floor. Jason choked on his beer. Damian’s sword slipped from his hand. Bruce, staring at Tim like he’d grown a second head, barely managed a strangled, “Tim. What did you do?”

Tim took a sip of his coffee, utterly unfazed. “It’s a power move.”

Jason, wheezing with laughter: “Oh my god. You married Ra’s out of spite? Replacement, I’ve never been prouder.”

Tim smirked. “Something like that.”

-----------

It wasn’t really spite.

Ra’s had been obsessed with him for years. The offers of succession, the constant attempts to lure him to the League—it was never-ending. Tim was tired. Tired of being hunted, tired of the games. So, one day, he called Ra’s’ bluff. If Ra’s wanted him so badly, he’d have to deal with all that came with it. Including Tim’s unrelenting need for control.

Ra’s agreed.

And just like that, Tim Drake became the most terrifying in-law the batfamily had ever seen.

-----------

Talia didn’t know what to think at first.

She’d seen it all before—people manipulated by Ra’s, twisted into tools for his will. But Tim? He didn’t play by those rules. He sat at Ra’s’ desk, sifting through League reports like they were Gotham case files. He didn’t bark orders; he made suggestions. And then, the soup happened.

Talia returned from a mission, bruised and exhausted. Tim, barely looking up from his paperwork, said, “Sit. You’re hurt.”

She scoffed. “I don’t need your pity.”

“It’s not pity. It’s soup.”

Talia stared. “Why?”

Tim shrugged. “You looked like you needed it.”

It became a routine. She’d return from missions, and Tim would be there. Not with judgment. Not with manipulation. Just quiet support. He listened. He offered advice. He treated her like a person, not a pawn.

Somehow, they started having regular bonding time. Shopping trips. Quiet conversations on the balcony. Tim became a person Talia could trust—a concept she hadn’t believed possible.

-----------

Damian was losing his mind.

“Drake!” he hissed, cornering Tim in the Batcave. “You’ve… corrupted my mother!”

Tim raised an eyebrow. “Corrupted? She’s thriving.”

“She smiles at you!”

“I’m very charming.”

Damian’s finger trembled as he pointed. “This makes you… my grandmother.”

Tim smirked. “Respect your elders, grandson.”

“I REFUSE!”

-----------

Bruce was spiraling.

“Tim, this is dangerous.”

“Relax,” Tim replied, sipping his coffee. “I’ve got it under control.”

“You married one of our greatest enemies!”

“Think of it as an undercover op,” Tim said, voice calm and unyielding. “I’m playing the long game.”

Jason, from the sidelines, grinned. “He’s playing 4D chess, and you’re still on checkers.”

-----------

The Real Chaos?

Tim didn’t marry Ra’s to make him happy. Hell no. If anything, it made Tim sick to his stomach knowing Ra’s was smug about it. But if putting up with Ra’s al Ghul meant protecting Talia, stabilizing the League, and giving Damian a family that didn’t break apart at the seams?

He’d endure.

Because Talia was healing. Damian’s mother was smiling. And Ra’s… well, Ra’s thought he’d won.

But the real winner? Tim Drake.

Gotham’s most unhinged vigilante had just become the League of Assassins’ terrifying step-parent. And honestly? It suited him.

-----------

Damian, whispering to Alfred: “I need… therapy.” Alfred: “We all do, Master Damian. We all do.”

[sweetlullabyebye]

Those two were so unexpectedly sweet they just kinda adopted each other with the third game like yeah we're in this together now

[cokoweee]

Sticky note: Symphony

I was messing around with uhhh how to do panels and stuff cause I don’t usually do comics like this. ANYWAYS HERES THESE GUYS CAUSE LET ME ROT OVER THEM A BIT PLEASE

[blueskittlesart]

was hit with a sudden flash of inspo so. half-dragon zelda again

[chloesimaginationthings]

The FNAF Vanessas meet their younger selves..

[crowlion]

Continuing the Gaang's hands + headcanons

Azula and Katara here

This series is inspired by @thyinum's Avatar's Hands series